


december never felt so wrong

by fathomless



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Christmas fic, Exes to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-26 03:07:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17133872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fathomless/pseuds/fathomless
Summary: “It looks nice,” he muttered after a few seconds, voice immensely softer than it had been before.  “You always did like snow.”Tears stung at the back of her eyes, but she wasn’t entirely sure why. “Yeah,” she agreed quietly. “I did.”Or, Bellamy and Clarke are exes. Getting snowed in, they figured, would be the worst thing. But close proximity and perpetual feelings force them to realize that, perhaps, being stuck together isn't so bad after all, and breaking up may have been their biggest mistake.





	december never felt so wrong

She’d always loved the snow.

When she was younger, her dad would take her sledding down the hill behind their house until they were both so cold their faces felt numb from it, and when they came home, her mom would already have hot chocolate made - extra marshmallows, more chocolate than she could begin to describe - and sometimes, if she was lucky, chocolate chip cookies, too.

Her parents both worked a lot when she was younger, which unfortunately meant they weren’t the most attentive. When they were home, it was a constant blur of interruptive phone calls and sudden meetings requesting their attendance. Thanksgiving and Christmas were merely words to them.

But when it snowed?

When it snowed, she felt… loved, like she was the only thing that mattered to them.

And, perhaps, she was.

Looking out the window of her family’s cabin, watching it fall to the ground in a blur as it coated the driveway, the trees, the lake off in the distance… She cursed the snow.

“Monty says they won’t be able to make it tonight. The roads are too bad, they don’t want to chance it.” Clarke sighed, groaning inwardly at the voice. She’d hoped he had went upstairs for the night.

“‘They,’ as in he and Harper, or ‘they,’ as in everyone else that’s yet to make it?”

His footsteps stopped somewhere on the other side of the room, and he was quiet for long enough she wondered if he’d left. “Everyone.” He cleared his throat. “Looks like it’s just you and me for the night, at least.”

She huffed in response, setting the glass she’d been holding on the counter in front of her. “Just what I wanted to hear.”

Voice full of hostility, a tone she used to hate hearing from him, one she still didn’t like, “Don’t worry, Princess, I’ll be sure not to bother you too much with my presence. Wouldn’t want to ruin your holidays.”

Tired of fighting with him every time they spoke, she didn’t say anything, and when she turned, he had already left the room.

Another aspect of her life she used to love but held nothing aside from abhorrence for in the moment, she cursed Bellamy Blake, too.

Her heart simultaneously battled her head when it came to him, it always had, yet lately she found her head winning the war.

They’d met her freshman year of college, not too far into the semester. She’d been a mess - stressed, lonely, heartbroken over some idiot boy she’d let into her heart too soon only to have it broken almost instantly, but Bellamy had been what she needed to heal, it seemed.

Not romantically, no, it wasn’t until years later, after they’d both graduated undergrad and gotten seemingly settled into their new ‘ _real adult_ ’ lives, that they fell into a romantic relationship, but he quickly became her best friend. He had been her only friend at the time, really. Though he was constantly brooding, and they fought more than they got along, she took him with her to all of the art galleries in the surrounding area, and he’d nervously asked her to accompany him on a weekend trip to some history museum in Columbus she’d never heard of. They played punch buggy and yelled at each other when they’d gotten lost due to a detour on the way back, and she covered her ears to block out his purposefully awful singing to every overly cheesy song that came on the radio, but all of a sudden, she couldn’t imagine her life without him.

She’d hoped she wouldn’t have to live a life without him, couldn’t begin to imagine the possibility. The feeling merely grew over the years, with each kiss he gave, each nuzzle she felt to the back of her neck at night, and even more every time he told her he loved her. It grew tenfold the night he confessed he couldn’t imagine life without her, either.

In the back of her mind, she figured he’d always be there, and somehow, she thinks maybe that had led to their downfall. Maybe she’d taken him for granted.

She wished she hadn’t.

It wasn’t necessarily late enough to warrant going to bed, the sun had only just finished setting, and she wasn’t tired, so sleep wasn’t an option. She found herself, instead, on the couch in the main room, scrolling through her phone while trying to pay attention to a Hallmark movie she’d turned to.

She listened for footsteps near the stairs, but Bellamy hadn’t come down. She figured he wouldn’t for the rest of the night.

The plan hadn’t been for him to arrive at the cabin before everyone else - before Clarke, nearly - but being the type to always try and be early, he had been, and the snow had only just started upon his arrival. Clarke figured the others would be able to make it, having checked the weather to see that it was only supposed to be enough to cover the roads, but unfortunately, the prediction had been wrong.

She wasn’t sure at this point whether the others would come at all.

By the time the movie finished, her eyes were beginning to droop, and she figured trying to sleep would be the best thing. Only, when she tried, she couldn’t quit envisioning his arms around her, warm chest pressed against her back, face pressed into the side of her neck.

Never one to admit it aloud, and only able to admit it to herself in the dark of the night, she missed him.

Sleep didn’t come easy.

She avoided thinking about why.

*

She mumbled what could hardly pass as, “Good morning,” when she finally hauled herself downstairs, finding Bellamy sat at the counter separating the kitchen and living room.

He merely hummed in response, picking up his cup and bringing it to his lips.

“Did you eat yet?” She pulled open the fridge, surveying its content. There wasn’t much. She paused momentarily when he didn’t respond. “Do you… want anything, in that case?” When he still didn’t respond, she turned to him, watching as he typed away at the laptop in front of him, unbothered. The fact that he was acting strange didn’t easily escape her. “Okay. What’s your deal?”

It was another moment of silence before he said anything.

“Just giving you space, Clarke. Like you wanted.”

“I never said I wanted-”

“It was heavily implied,” he deadpanned. Then, nodding in the direction of the window above the sink,  “By the way, in case you haven’t already looked outside, you might want to.”

Warily, she walked over to the window, standing on the tips of her toes so she could see better. She moved the curtain aside, only to see everything covered in snow, and not merely a coating, either. She figured there had to be at least half a foot, if not more.

Inhaling sharply, she resisted the urge to groan aloud. The others would never be able to make it safely.

“County’s on a level two emergency. No one’s supposed to be out unless it’s completely necessary,” Bellamy explained, coming up beside her to look outside, himself.

“There’s no way they’re coming then, huh?” She’d known the answer before he shook his head in response. “Great. Looks like we’re both stuck here, too, then.”

“Unfortunately for you, yeah, it looks like you’ll be spending more time with me than you’d thought.” He paused before adding, detached, “I won’t bother you any more than necessary, don’t worry.”

“Bellamy-”

“Clarke, look. Things were rough between us six months ago, and they’re rough now. I get that you don’t want me around any more than I have to be, and if it weren’t for our friends, you probably wouldn’t want me around at all.” He stepped away slightly, still focused on the snow outside, now beginning to fall again in a light flurry. “You don’t have to worry about it.” She could hear the hurt in his voice no matter how hard he tried to disguise it by feigning nonchalance, though it only worked to frustrate her.

“Can you try to not be an ass for two seconds?”

“What?” He asked, moving to stand by the counter he’d sat at only minutes earlier. “I didn’t say anything untrue. I know you, Clarke.” He seemed to take her silence as an answer. “See?”

“Can we talk about something else, please?”

“Whatever the hell you want.” She watched as he leaned back, crossing his arms. He was still focused on the snow.

“It looks nice,” he muttered after a few seconds, voice immensely softer than it had been before.  “You always did like snow.”

Tears stung at the back of her eyes, but she wasn’t entirely sure why. “Yeah,” she agreed quietly. “I did.”

Eventually, she turned to find her phone, wanting to text the others and tell them not to worry about trying to make it until the roads cleared, although he probably already had. Bellamy closed his laptop, picking up his mug to put it in the sink.

“You don’t have to go upstairs.” He turned to look at her, hand on the banister. “We could watch always watch a movie or something.”

He hesitated, one foot on the first step. “No, we don't- we don’t have to.”

“Don’t make things difficult, Bell.” She froze at her accidental use of the nickname, watching as he did the same. They hadn’t been around each other alone much since they’d broken up, and it was something she’d called him since they first became friends, long before he was her boyfriend. She knew it wasn’t a big deal, but somehow, it felt like it was. “I mean, you-”

“Why are you suddenly being so nice?” Clarke stilled again at his words, not entirely sure of what he meant. “Just save it.”

“Am I not allowed to be a decent human being?”

“That's not what I meant, Clarke.” He shook his head. “Now you're just putting words in my mouth.”

“Do you think I’m so horrible that I can’t even try to get along with you?” He considered her words, huffing a bitter laugh before he spoke.

“No, I- I don't think that, Clarke. It's just… Look, we both know we don't want to spend any more time together than we have to. There's no point in pretending otherwise.” He paused, running a hand through his hair, pulling lightly at the ends. “We haven't been alone together like this since we broke up, and when we have been alone, we’ve been at each other's throats almost every time.”

He was right, she knew, but she still wished he wasn’t.

“Aren't you tired of it?” She was.

“Yeah,” He admitted, sounding nearly as defeated as she felt. “I am.”

Silence settled between them. She wasn't sure what to say, and figured that neither was he. Each time things between them began to mend, becoming somewhat tolerable, one of them said or did something to revert them to the way they had been previously. One would give an inch, only for the other to take a mile in return. What Clarke hated most about it all was that she hadn't just lost a boyfriend, the person she thought she’d spend the rest of her life with. No, she’d lost her best friend, too. Sometimes, when she really thought about it, she found herself wishing they’d never entered a romantic relationship.

Perhaps, then, she’d at least still have him in some way, even if it wasn't the way she wanted him.

She cleared her throat, looking away from him.

“Just… forget I asked.” Before he could say anything in response, she pushed past him. “I’ll be upstairs.”

It wasn’t until later, when she suddenly found herself suddenly cloaked in darkness, that she saw him again.

“Bellamy,” she called, stepping out in the hallway. “I swear, if you’ve-”

“If I’ve, what?” She jumped slightly at his voice, turning to face him. “I didn’t do anything,” he clarified. “I was coming to see what you’d done.”

“Why would you assume that I had done anything?” She couldn’t help but feel offended, though she supposed he likely felt the same at her accusation.

“Clarke, just-” He pinched his nose before continuing. “It’s probably because of the weather.”

She hummed in agreement.

“There’s a generator out in the garage, I think. We had to use it when we were here a few years back,” she explained, using the flashlight on her phone to light the way as she headed downstairs in search of her coat and boots. “Both of us will need to move it, though. I doubt we could get it on our own.” He nodded.

“Let me get dressed, then. I’ll meet you by the front door.”

True to his word, he appeared in front of her, cloaked in what seemed to be everything he figured could provide him warmth, less than five minutes later. Wordlessly, she unlocked the door, the blistering cold hitting them as soon as she pulled it open.

Snow blew in every which direction, and she shivered at the biting cold of it. Behind her, she could hear Bellamy complaining. Had she been able to properly gather the words, she would have been, too. Ice covered the porch and walkway, making it difficult to navigate.

The trek across the yard seemed to take forever, and she cursed the way her boots would get stuck every other step, how she had to practically force her way through the accumulation on the ground. Wrenching open the side door of the garage, she stepped inside, flipping the light switch on. With a brief inspection, she found that the generator wasn’t where she remembered it being, but was instead across the room.

“It’s over here,” she told Bellamy, turning to look at him. The toboggan on his head had been blown to the side, his hair sticking out of it in an array of curls, cheeks tinted bright red from the wind. She bit the inside of her cheek, suppressing a smile at the sight.

Apparently, she hadn’t done such a good job of doing so.

“What?” He grumbled, walking in the direction she had gestured.

“Nothing.”

And, well, if she thought the trek to the garage had taken long, the walk back to the house while carrying the generator took at least twice as much time, and just as long to figure out how to connect it to the cabin’s inlet box.

They returned to the foyer freezing, soaking wet, and both annoyed with the other after Bellamy insisted he knew how to plug in the generator, only for Clarke to insist she be the one to do it. Neither of them, it turned out, really knew how.

“I think I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be warm,” she muttered, pulling off her boots after effectively stomping the snow they’d acquired onto the rug in front of the door.

“I know the feeling.” She watched as Bellamy ran a hand threw his hair, hat forgotten on the table. “I’m gonna go change,” he explained, heading for the stairs.

“Me too.”

Once they had both done so, they returned to the living room, sat on opposite ends of the couch while trying to maintain some semblance of warmth. While she was getting dressed, Bellamy had started a fire in the fireplace, TV in the corner turned to one of the Christmas episodes of Friends.

Despite the mountain of blankets on top of her and the fire going nearby, she couldn’t seem to get any warmer, her body shaking in desperation.

Not that she would admit that to Bellamy, though.

“You okay?” He asked, readjusting his own blanket.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

If they were still together, she may not have told him the truth, no, but she would have already been sat close enough to him she wouldn’t have been able to tell where he ended and she began, a blanket draped over them both as they held each other close.

She yearned to move closer to him, enough to feel his warmth, but couldn’t find the courage to ask that of him, too afraid he would turn her away. She wouldn’t blame him if he did.

“You’re still cold, aren’t you?” He already knew the answer, she could tell, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to answer truthfully.

“No.” The defensiveness was apparent in her voice no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

“Come here.” He lay down slightly, arm resting on the side of the couch, the other motioning for her to lay in front of him. She wanted to.

“No, I’m fine. Really, Bellamy.”

Except, he still didn’t believe her. His arm reached out for hers, gently pulling her towards him. Knowing he wouldn’t give up, she relented, slowly laying down. Moments later, she felt him settle in further behind her.

His warmth in comparison to the lack of her own was enough to make her shiver, even more so when one of his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against him.

Against the top of her head, he whispered, “Better?”

Without hesitation, she muttered into the blanket he had pulled over them, “Much.”

She leaned back against him, their bodies nearly flush against one another, and figured that if he said anything, she could use feeling cold as an excuse. He didn’t have to know she missed the feeling of his body against hers, that she longed to feel it again.

He didn’t have to know that she missed him, though in a perfect world, one where she wasn’t frightened to know whether he missed her, too, she would make sure he knew.

Enveloped in his warmth, his scent, she suddenly felt tired enough her eyes began to flutter closed. She told herself it would only be a few seconds, that she would open them again and leave his hold in a matter of minutes.

Yet, when she came to, it was nearly dark outside, and Bellamy was asleep, too, his breath heavy against the back of her neck. So focused on him, it took a moment for her to register that, across the room, her phone was ringing. Carefully, she lifted his arm from around her waist.

Nearly tripping over her own two feet in a hurry to get to it, she picked her phone up from the counter before bringing it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Who is it?” She heard Bellamy ask, clearly not entirely awake yet judging by his voice. She ignored him, listening to the person on the other line.

“It was work,” she explained once the call was over, turning a lamp on so they could see properly. “They need me to come in.”

“What?” He sat up fully at her words, blanket forgotten on the floor. “It’s too dangerous, Clarke, they can’t expect you to come in when there’s a foot of snow out there.”

“There was a pileup on the interstate, among other things, and there aren’t enough medical personnel there to handle it.” She watched as he stood, running a hand through his hair. She figured if it hadn’t been a mess beforehand, it certainly would be now. “I have to go.”

Clarke turned to head for the stairs, needing to get dressed despite knowing she shouldn’t go, anyway. It _was_ dangerous - she just didn’t understand where Bellamy’s sudden concern was coming from. If she were being honest, she didn’t wish to dwell on it too long.

 _“Clarke.”_ He grabbed her hand, causing her to look up at him. His eyes were wide, almost pleading, his voice nearly breaking on her name. And though it made her heart clench, it also filled her with an anger she found she couldn’t quite describe. “You know as well as I do that it’s too dangerous to be out right now, and that if it were anybody else, you’d be begging them not to go. Why are you so hellbent on going?”

“It’s my _job,_ Bellamy, and anyway, why do you _care?”_

Though she meant for it to sound more biting, it came out much weaker than she intended.

For months, he didn’t care what she did. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he wanted nothing to do with her, and suddenly, he was out of his mind with worry about her well-being? It was Bellamy, she knew that he worried, that it was in his nature to do so, and yet she couldn’t understand why he was so intent on her staying where she was.

“Why do I care?” He repeated her words, sounding much more broken than she had. “Clarke, this is your safety that’s at stake. In what world do you think I _wouldn’t_ care about that?”

“The same world where you didn’t care about anything I did for months after we broke up?”

She turned to walk away, only to be pulled back by his grasp on her wrist, ending up closer to him this time. It was enough that if she were to take another step, they’d be chest to chest.

“There’s no world where I wouldn’t care about whether you were safe, Clarke, not even this one.” She swallowed hard as his fingers came to brush against her face. “I’ll _always_ care about you, no matter what we are, or how I might act.” Her breath hitched as his thumb came to cradle her jaw, his touch gentle. “I almost made you my _wife_ , Clarke. How could I go from wanting to marry you to not caring at all in a matter of months?”

Her mouth opened as if to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. The way he was looking at her, as if she were the only thing that mattered to him, made it difficult to think straight.

“Your,” she cleared her throat before trying again, her voice impossibly small. “Your wife?”

He nodded, lips twisting into a sad smile.

“I bought a ring.” Her eyes stung with unshed tears, hand shaking as she brought it to rest on top of his. He looked away for a moment before looking at her again. “I was just trying to figure out how to ask you.” He shrugged, as if he wanted her to believe it wasn’t a big deal.

Her next words came without preamble, infinitely louder than her last. “I still love you.” Despite her blurting them, however, they weren’t untrue, and she ached at the thought of him not feeling the same. His eyes widened, body stiffening, and panic filled her. “I never stopped. I- I was stupid, and I should have talked to you about everything, I shouldn’t have just given up. It was-”

His lips on hers were enough to stop her rambling, enough to cease her thoughts entirely.

For a moment, she was completely still, enough that she felt him start to pull away, only for her to begin kissing him back, a slow slide of lips. Her hands found their way around his neck, his free one coming to rest on the dip of her waist.

It felt like coming home.

“Hey,” he whispered, once they pulled apart. “I love you so much.” His words were punctuated by a kiss to her cheek as he pulled her closer.

“I love you, too,” she whispered against his shoulder. “We have a lot to talk about, huh?”

“Seems like it.” He smiled, one so obviously genuine she didn’t feel the need to question it. “Let’s worry about that later, though, okay?”

“Yeah,” she agreed before leaning up to kiss him again, finding it easy to revel in the feeling after so long without it.  “Later sounds great.”

And despite the problems she knew they’d have to work through, for the first time since she thought she’d said her final goodbye to him as the love of her life, everything felt  _right._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Meant to post this yesterday but that didn't work out so Merry (late) Christmas/happy holidays!
> 
> (Talk to me [here](https://twitter.com/beiiemy) on twitter!)


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